


not looking for redemption nor some shallow kind of bliss

by emmerrr



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: (just the vaguest of allusions nothing explicit), Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Power Outage, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22293019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmerrr/pseuds/emmerrr
Summary: A snowstorm, a power cut, and forgotten truths whispered in the dark.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 16
Kudos: 332





	not looking for redemption nor some shallow kind of bliss

**Author's Note:**

> written as a response for 2 different andreil winter themed prompts: snowed in and no power, what better way to spend the time than truth telling and snuggling / Andreil and accidental snow angels
> 
> enjoy! :)

The snow had fallen thick and fast all through the night, and Neil opened the curtains in the morning to see a winter wonderland outside. No run today, then.

Andrew, wrapped in the duvet, stepped up beside Neil to take in the view. He made a small sound of disgust and then shuffled back to bed. Andrew and cold weather didn’t mix.

Andrew and _hot_ weather didn’t mix, for that matter. 

Neil smiled at the lump in the middle of the bed that was Andrew, blond hair peeking out the top.

“Coffee?”

“There isn’t any,” the lump replied, muffled.

“What do you mean there isn’t any.”

Andrew sat up and pinned Neil with a glare. “I mean that we finished it last night and there’s no more, because _someone_ didn’t pick any up when he was at the store yesterday. Not mentioning any names, but you, Neil. It was you.”

Neil rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine, my bad. I’ll just go and get some then, no big deal.”

Andrew pointed out the window. “In this?”

“A bit of snow never hurt anybody.”

“Have you ever fucking heard of an avalanche.”

Neil paused; he’d forgotten about avalanches. “…Good point. But we’re not exactly in avalanche territory.”

Andrew considered this. “Well, it’s dangerous to drive in the snow.”

Neil shrugged, deciding to ignore the hypocrisy of Andrew calling out dangerous driving. “So I’ll walk.” Even if he _did_ drive, he’d have to dig the car out first and then clear the driveway, which would take ages. Not to mention that they didn’t have a snow shovel so it was a bit of a moot point anyway.

He started getting dressed, pulling on a long sleeved t-shirt and then the biggest hoodie he could find. Andrew let out a monumental sigh and dragged himself to his feet, following Neil’s lead and dressing warmly.

He was very clearly coming, so Neil didn’t waste time telling him he didn’t have to; Andrew already knew that but had made his mind up. Pointing out the obvious was pointless, and besides, Neil appreciated the company.

At the front door, they pulled on weather-proof boots and hats and scarves and gloves, then wrapped themselves up in big coats. Feeling somewhat top-heavy, they ventured outside.

The cold was biting, their noses and cheeks quickly turning pink as they made their way through the snow, but once they were out of their own quiet street, the short journey became a little easier, as the busier roads had obviously been visited by a snow plough.

It wasn’t far to the convenience store anyway, and while Neil was getting the coffee, Andrew headed next door to the Starbucks to get them to-go cups for the walk back.

They met back up outside, and Andrew handed Neil his cup and then pulled Neil’s hat down so that it was covering the tops of his ears.

Neil smiled.

“What,” Andrew deadpanned.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to, junkie. I told you not to look at me like that.”

“Yeah, but you’re not the boss of me,” Neil said, unconcerned.

“Being the boss of you sounds exhausting,” Andrew said, then took Neil’s hand as they set off for home.

Neil swung their hands between them as they walked. “Is this for warmth?” he asked. “For safety?”

“It’s just because. You want me to let go?”

Neil squeezed Andrew’s hand. “No.”

Andrew _almost_ looked smug. “Didn’t think so.”

Neil laughed as they turned the corner into their driveway. “Hey, you held _my_ hand—”

The rest of his sentence evaporated as Andrew slipped on some snow and over-corrected by leaning back, resulting in him landing flat on his back. As they were still holding hands, Neil went down too in a tangle of limbs.

“Fuck,” he said, sitting up slowly and shaking snow out of his hair. He turned to Andrew. “You okay?”

Andrew still hadn’t moved, but he didn’t _look_ hurt. “I’m fine,” he said, completely expressionless.

Neil struggled to his feet and reached a hand down to help Andrew up.

Andrew shook his head. “I live here now.”

Eyes closed, lying in the snow, Andrew started moving his arms and legs. He was making a snow angel. Neil wondered if this was a conscious decision on Andrew’s part, or if it was just ingrained in every person; if you find yourself lying in the snow, you make a snow angel.

Neil lay back down beside him, and made a snow angel of his own. When he looked over at Andrew, Andrew was already looking at him.

“What are you doing?”

Neil found Andrew’s hand in the snow. “If you live here now, I live here now.”

* * *

Cold, and now wet, they retreated inside to warm up. Andrew went to have the first shower while Neil put on a pot of coffee, because it was clearly going to be that sort of day. A nothing day.

Neil could live with that.

He heard Andrew step out of the shower just as the coffee pot finally filled to the top, and a moment later the overhead lights went off and that distinct quiet descended as everything electric in the house stopped running.

“Huh,” Neil said. He grabbed a flashlight out of the drawer and went to check the fuse box.

None of the trip switches looked like they needed resetting, and when he flipped the main power switch off and then on again, nothing happened.

Andrew appeared at his shoulder.

“Power cut,” Neil informed him unnecessarily.

“Is it just us?” Andrew asked.

“Good question.” They went to the window in the living room and peered out and up the street. As it was a dark, snowy day, plenty of houses had lights on when Neil and Andrew returned from the store. Now, all of them were off, and a few of their neighbours seemed to be checking out of their own windows, presumably for the same reason as they were.

“I think it’s hit the whole street, at least,” Neil said, turning to Andrew. “Oh, shit, your hair’s wet.”

“That happens sometimes when you have a shower,” Andrew said drily.

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know.”

“I never said I was witty.”

“Okay, shut up, go and get your towel. I’ll start a fire.”

By an extreme stroke of luck, they had a wood-burner fireplace and not an electric one, which meant that they at least had a heat source. Once Neil got it started, he remembered the just brewed coffee and hurried back into the kitchen. He split it between two thermoses so at least it would keep warm, then he took them back through to the living room.

Andrew had re-emerged from their bedroom with the duvet from their bed along with any other blanket he’d managed to find. He was sitting in front of the fire, rubbing at his damp hair with a towel.

Neil handed him a thermos and sat down beside him. “That’s better. Don’t want you catching a cold.”

“You’re the one who hasn’t warmed up after coming in from the snow,” Andrew said. “Go dry off. Change.”

“But it’s so nice and warm here now,” Neil complained, reaching for a blanket.

Andrew snatched it out of the way with his lightning fast goalie reflexes.

“You’re not allowed in the blanket fort until you put on some dry clothes.”

Neil grinned. “Oh, it’s a blanket fort now, is it?”

“Yes, and I’m the king of the blanket fort, so fuck off and change.”

Neil got to his feet and bowed as sarcastically as possible. “Yes, your royal highness.”

To be fair, Andrew was right, and Neil immediately felt better after changing out of his damp clothes and into soft and warm PJs and really thick socks.

“It’s cold outside of the blanket fort,” he said when he got back to Andrew in front of the fire.

“No shit,” Andrew replied, but he caught hold of Neil’s wrist and tugged him closer, wrapping him up in the duvet. They huddled together, sharing warmth, Neil dropping his head onto Andrew’s shoulder and letting himself be held. It was comfort in the disguise of practicality, but Neil knew that neither of them were fooled.

He pressed a kiss onto Andrew’s collar-bone.

“Your face is cold,” Andrew said, and Neil looked up, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

Andrew shrugged. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil said, and Andrew leaned in to kiss him.

This, Neil thought, was a very good way to wait out a power cut. Cocooned in their own little world, roaring fireplace, roaming hands and lips, escaped sighs and body heat and the warmth of their shared breaths between kisses.

Neil could think of worse ways to pass the time.

They got hungry after a while, and Andrew went to the kitchen to forage for food that didn’t require cooking or heating up. He returned with Pringles, cookies, and some fruit which had clearly been brought in for Neil’s benefit.

Neil took a bite of an apple. “How long do you think it’ll take for the power to come back on?”

“Snow’s pretty bad,” Andrew said. “At least a couple of hours, probably? I think there’s a number we can call to check.”

Neil pulled his phone out of his pocket, only to discover that his battery had died.

“You’ll have to do it.”

Andrew checked his own phone, then half smiled and shook his head. “Mine’s dead, too.”

Neil laughed. “Not charging your phone seems like a very me move.”

“Well I guess you’re rubbing off on me.” Andrew put his phone on the coffee table and sighed. “Nicky always calls on Saturdays as well, he’s going to think we’ve died.”

“We can call when the power’s back on,” Neil said. He stretched out across the floor, bunching a pillow up under his head. The warmth from the fireplace was making him feel pleasantly drowsy, which in turn made him talkative in the way that the very tired often are.

“I remember when I was a kid, like, five or six, back in Baltimore, and my dad wasn’t home and there was a power outage. So all the lights and everything went out and the guys he’d left at the house went to check the circuit breakers or whatever, so they were distracted. And my mom just quickly bundled me up and grabbed the car keys and started taking me to the garage, but then one of the guys came back and asked her what she was doing, and without even skipping a beat she said I had a fever and she was taking me to the pharmacy to get something. So he came with us, and then when we got home mom tucked me up in bed, and then she just never mentioned it again. I didn’t even _have_ a fever.”

Andrew was very quiet, listening intently, his eyes never leaving Neil’s face.

“I didn’t realise until years later when we actually ran away in the middle of my Ravens tryout, but I think that was my mom’s first attempt at getting us out.”

Neil had never told anyone that before, but he’d often thought about what would have happened if they _had_ gotten away that night. 

Odds were they’d _both_ be dead. It probably wasn’t worth thinking about at all. That wasn’t the road they ended up taking, and the one they _had_ taken had eventually led Neil here, to _this_ power cut in the little house he owned with Andrew.

 _This_ was everything that mattered.

Andrew lay down opposite Neil, facing him. He didn’t comment on what Neil had said, but he gently ran his thumb across the old burn scar on Neil’s cheek.

“Me and Cass were making cookies once when there was a power cut,” he said quietly, and Neil held his breath. A truth for a truth.

“We’d made up the mixture but then we couldn’t put them in the oven because we had no power.” Andrew shrugged. “We could have just set it aside to bake them when it came back on, but instead Cass just handed me a spoon and said she wouldn’t tell if I didn’t. And we just ate raw cookie dough.”

Neil smiled. “You’re not supposed to do that.”

“No. But we did it anyway.”

“Like…the whole bowl?”

“Of course not. Just a couple of spoonfuls. Then we lit a bunch of candles and Cass found an old jigsaw puzzle and we tried to do that just by candlelight until the power came back on.”

This was a good memory, Neil realised. Anything to do with Cass was inevitably tied up with memories of trauma, but Andrew was still going to therapy and had done a lot of introspective work to get to this point, where he could take a memory for exactly what it was; a fun power cut with cookie dough and a jigsaw puzzle. And now he’d shared it with Neil.

Neither of them could change what had happened to them, but they were here now. And wasn’t that just the most remarkable thing?

Neil yawned, and his eyes drifted closed before he jolted them open again. Andrew was staring evenly back at him.

“You can sleep, Neil.”

“I don’t want to. I want to talk to you.”

Andrew shifted closer, throwing the blanket he was covered in over Neil as well.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed Neil’s forehead. “Go to sleep.”

It was hard to argue with that, and Neil’s eyes were so heavy. He let himself drift.

Some time later, the house hummed back to life, beeps from the oven and the microwave, the TV and the fridge and the coffee machine. But it went unnoticed.

Entwined together in front of the dying embers of the fire, Neil and Andrew slept on, safe and warm.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the heart is a muscle by gang of youths who i've been listening to incessantly over the last couple of weeks


End file.
